Wall of Silence

by Gabrielle Goldsby

  “Hey, is that a threat?” Ponytail asked angrily.

  “What’s your problem? Your partner here slap you upside the head with his dick stick too many times? That was no threat, that was a promise.” With that, I walked into the captain’s office to receive what I hoped would be no more then a stern lecture.

  “I’m putting you on a medical leave of absence,” she said, furiously scribbling on a sheet of paper. “I don’t know why you’re on this self-destructive tear, but I’m not about to let you bring this department down with you.” She pushed the paper in front of me. “Don’t come back without a clearance from the psychologist.”

  I grabbed the paper and shoved it into my back pocket. And without so much as a by-your-leave, I walked away.

  “Everett!” she ordered coldly. “Leave your gun.”

  I stopped walking. “You want my gun?”

  “You’ll get it back when you’re cleared for duty again.”

  I ripped my gun out of the nylon holster, emptied the clip, stormed across the room, and set both on her desk with a thump. “I suppose you want my badge, too, right?” I slammed that down as well and stalked toward the door that separated her from the real police officers.

  “I mean it this time, Everett!” I heard her shout behind me.

  I raised my hand in a regal half-wave and growled, “Whatever.” As I exited the building, I checked my watch. 2:06. Good. Perfect time to have a cocktail…or ten.

  *

  I slid off my bar stool and waved drunkenly to Stacy, or at least the blur I thought was Stacy. She’d tried to cut me off several times during the evening, but I kept reminding her that I was an adult and I wasn’t driving. She was well within her rights to refuse me service, but she had no doubt heard about Smitty on that damned police scanner of hers and was probably trying to cut me some slack.

  I avoided making eye contact with Riley as I approached the exit. She hadn’t been there when I came in earlier, as Stacy didn’t start accepting covers until the evening. I felt ashamed that I’d sat there all night silently getting plastered, but shame was not enough to stop me from drinking. I could feel Riley’s stare the whole time, just like I felt it now, but I refused to look at her. I hoped she didn’t think that a shared kiss and a few friendly words made us best buds, ’cause it didn’t. I didn’t want any friends. Actually, I didn’t even want any acquaintances. Riley probably would have made a good friend. She seemed to be a sensitive and caring individual. But I wasn’t used to dealing with people who gave a shit about others just because. It was in her best interests if she stayed away from me.

  She didn’t utter a word as I stumbled out into the night. Perversely, I was disappointed. Maybe I was wrong about her. Maybe she wasn’t as caring as I’d thought. The chilly air hit my face, and I become annoyingly sober. Tucking my hands in my pockets, I emitted a soft curse. As usual, I was not wearing a coat, and as usual, I would be freezing my ass off.

  I had just made the decision to jog the block or two home when I was grabbed from behind and pushed into a small alley between two buildings. I didn’t have time to struggle, let alone scream, before several blows to my ribs doubled me over and dropped me to all fours. The act of breathing sent pain ripping through my body. Gingerly I reached for my gun, only to recall with stunning clarity handing my weapon over to the captain with nary a whimper. I always knew she would be the death of me.

  “Listen up, bitch,” my attacker growled before he landed a kick to my stomach that lifted me up off the ground and left me curled in a fetal position on my side. “We’ve got a message for you. Keep your big mouth shut. You got that?”

  “Man, she got it. Let’s go.”

  “Shut up. I know what I’m doing.”

  This was the first clue I had that there were two attackers, not just one. It would be harder to get away. When I’d felt the first blow to my stomach, it had instantly occurred to me that the two suits I’d jumped on were getting their revenge. They would rough me up a bit, but leave me alive and regretting the embarrassment I had caused them. But the voices of these two were all wrong. They were young, streetwise, and frighteningly unfamiliar.

  “You see that, man?” the deeper voice gloated. “That’s what you do to dogs when they’re a problem. Kick them in the stomach, and they get the point.”

  Yanked up and pushed back against the wall, I waited for fists to rain down on me again. But they never came. I heard punches and groans but no one laid a hand on me. I slid slowly down the nasty-ass wall and waited with my forehead in my hand for either salvation or another ass-kicking.

  When the staccato of running footsteps penetrated my fuzzy mind, I tried to speak, but I could only cough a few times.

  “Foster, are you okay?”

  I recognized that muffled voice instantly. “Riley?”

  “Yeah, come on, let’s get out of here.”

  She helped me stand, and I began to take a deep breath before I thought better of it.

  “Who were they?” she asked.

  “No idea. Probably muggers.”

  “Probably.” Her voice sounded more clipped than usual.

  “Shit!” I wheezed, running my hands over my pants pockets. “I can’t find my keys. They were in my hand when I left the club, but now I don’t know where they are.”

  Shockingly, I felt tears well up in my eyes. I was suspended from my job, Smitty was dead, and someone had just kicked the shit out of me.

  “It’s okay.” Riley wrapped her arms around me.

  Like a small child, I buried my nose in her shirt and inhaled her fresh, clean scent. No perfume, no special scented soaps, just cleanness that seemed to emanate from her very pores. And beneath all that, the faintest scent of chocolate, or maybe it was just a memory of happier times.

  “We’ll never be able to find those damn keys without a flashlight.”

  “I’ll drive you to the hospital,” Riley said.

  I shook my head emphatically. Someone had just sent me a message, and until I knew what it meant, I needed to stay away from paperwork and mandatory reporting. “No. I just need to lie down.”

  “I can take you to my place.” She seemed embarrassed. “It isn’t much, but it’s quiet. Maybe you can get some sleep.”

  “What about Stacy?”

  “I’ll call her after we get to my place.”

  As Riley helped me to her truck, I wondered how she had been there to save my ass. Had she seen my attackers follow me? It suddenly occurred to me that I was about to allow a woman I didn’t really know to take me to some undisclosed destination in the middle of the night. Nobody knew where I was. Apprehension curled in my stomach like a cobra waiting to strike. My ribs ached and I had a splitting headache. I would not be able to fight if I had to. Riley helped me into the vehicle and slammed the door with a sturdy thunk. I’ve always enjoyed the smell and sound of older vehicles, don’t ask me why. Some people like the smell of gasoline or rubbing alcohol; I like old vehicles.

  I peered dazedly through the windshield as we drove. Eventually a dark building loomed in front of me with no visible lights on inside. I didn’t see any other vehicles in the area. My door opened with a loud creak that amplified my fears. The dome light came on with a flicker that barely illuminated the cab. My heart beat an extra thrum of relief as I looked into Riley’s honest blue eyes. This woman was trying to help me, someone she barely knew, for no reason other than that she was a nice person. I could see no animosity or dishonesty in her face. And frankly, right now I had no choice. I needed to trust her. I was too tired and hurt to do anything else.

  “Let me help you.” She took my arm and I eased from the vehicle, wincing as my ribs protested the movement.

  I could barely see her. Pain was making it hard for me to concentrate. I wheezed as I put one foot in front of the other. I vaguely wondered whether I should be alarmed at the amount of broken glass that I seemed to be treading on. Where was she taking me? I had no idea how long we’d been driving, so I wasn’t ev
en sure if we were still within the city limits.

  Although I was unsure of my footing, Riley was obviously used to trekking in the darkness. She moved with assurance for a few more steps and then stopped. I heard her stick a key in a lock and open a door. She flipped a switch and then stepped into the building, holding the heavy door open for me. The light from inside beckoned. I was not in any shape to argue, so I simply walked in, the theme from Phantom of the Opera playing eerily in my head.

  “Riley, what is this place?”

  “An old movie theater. This is where I live.”

  “An old movie theater,” I repeated, holding my side and wondering if I was the stupidest moron on Earth to let her bring me here. For all I knew, she could be a serial killer.

  “This way.” She led me down a hall, flipping lights as she went.

  Sweat rolled down my spine from the effort of walking while I was in so much pain. “Why do you live in a movie theater?” I asked. For some reason, I was trying to avoid walking through the door she was patiently holding open.

  “Because I have no money and it’s free.” The statement was made without any self-pity or embarrassment.

  “Oh.” Okay, Everett, you’re going to have to trust her. I mentally gave myself a shove and, with a final look at her, I walked through the door.

  Though the lighting was dim, I could still see the vestiges of what had probably been a fine movie house in its day. High-backed burgundy seats close to a hundred in number littered the floors in varying stages of disrepair. The chairs themselves were a dark oak, and even underneath the film of dust, I could tell that they would look beautiful when cleaned up.

  “I never knew this place existed.”

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Her voice had a dreamy quality. I used that moment to study her face. Though her features were prominent, they weren’t at all hard. I wondered why I had thought she looked mean or unapproachable when I first met her. Right now she looked…well, young, innocent, even naïve.

  “Yes, it’s wonderful,” I said.

  “Restoration starts as soon as the permits are issued.” Riley looked into my eyes at that moment and seemed to get embarrassed. “I’m sorry. You’re tired. Let’s get to my apartment.”

  She didn’t wait for me to respond before she started toward the opposite end of the theater. When she reached the stage, I watched in amazement as she slid a door back and reached in. She appeared to feel around for a minute before, with a click, she flipped a light switch. “Careful, the stairs are narrow.”

  I followed her, expecting to see a dive, a place that was suitable to crash in when one was without better living arrangements. “Holy shit,” I breathed as we reached the bottom step. This was no dive. Someone had put a lot of time into making this space into a home.

  The apartment, though not huge by any means, was actually bigger than my studio. It had a nautical feel. The hardwood floors were painted a dark blue, as were the walls and shelving. Only the ceiling was white. Though there were no windows in the place, there were actual portholes from a ship on both sides of the room. In one corner, on a raised platform, Riley’s sleeping area was furnished with a double bed, a nightstand, and a cart that held a small TV and DVD player. A miniature kitchen area, complete with a sink, microwave, and stove, was to the right. Two doors were to my left, one of which I hoped led to the restroom.

  “Wow, this place is really something.” Pain shot up from my side and robbed me of my breath. “Aw shit,” I moaned.

  Riley caught me as I toppled forward. “I’ve got you.”

  And she did have me. She lifted me easily, carried me over to the bed, and laid me down. “I need to look at your side. Could have broken ribs.” Her strangely clipped speech pattern seemed more pronounced. Perhaps it got that way when she was worried.

  “No, these are just bruised. Hurts, though.” I fought the urge to cough. I knew any sudden movement would mean a shitload of pain. This had been quite a day. I gazed up at the ceiling. “They’re clouds. You painted clouds on the ceiling.”

  The luminous forms were outlined in a light blue, so delicate that at first glance it looked like a plain white ceiling. The effect was relaxing, like sleeping under the open sky. My eyelids fluttered a few times as I fought the urge to just close them and allow myself to sleep.

  The bed dipped as Riley sat down next to me. She showed me a bottle. “Painkillers.”

  “Good idea. Thank you.” I allowed her to feed me two white pills and obediently drank the cold water she offered. The annoying itch at the back of my throat abated for the time being. “Why did you paint the sky on your ceiling?” I asked her.

  Her answer should have been sad, but it wasn’t. She spoke with a straightforward honesty I wasn’t used to. “Because for most of my life, it was the only pretty thing I saw.”

  Chapter Six

  “Foster, I’m back.”

  I jerked awake and looked up to see a naked Riley gazing down at me. Okay, so she wasn’t exactly naked, but she might as well have been. She had on a cropped tank top that left nothing to the imagination and a pair of gray cotton shorts that hugged every curve on her body. If I hadn’t been in so much pain, I’m sure I would have been salivating. Riley did have a gorgeously sculpted body. She obviously put in a lot of work for it to look as it did.

  I eased upright and reached under my shirt to find tape wrapped neatly around my ribs. When had she done that?

  “I was afraid you’d hurt yourself in your sleep,” she explained. “I got you as comfortable as I could.”

  She had taken my bra and shoes and socks off, and unbuttoned my pants. I flushed. My habit of not wearing underwear had finally caught up with me. Hopefully she hadn’t gotten a glimpse of my “world” while she was trying to get me comfortable.

  She backed away and turned on the light in the kitchen. “You hungry? I went to the store.”

  “No, not really.” The thought of eating made me queasy. I watched her hands as she quickly diced tomatoes. Her face was hard to read, but I knew I’d sounded ungrateful, so I tried to make amends. “Look, what I really wanted to say was, thank you.” She didn’t bother looking up at me, so I cleared my throat. “I mean it, Riley. Thank you for being there for me, okay?”

  Finally the efficient hands paused, and she glanced up. I could see the smile in her eyes and concluded I was back in her good graces. I decided to try to push my luck a bit. “Hey, do you think I could go with you when you go to work tomorrow? I want to check out the alley before it gets too dark.”

  “Why?”

  “Those guys weren’t really trying to mug me. They said something about not hurting me, and I should keep my mouth shut. It was odd.”

  She wasn’t making eye contact with me. “I picked up your things. They’re over there.”

  I figured she didn’t want to talk about the incident. People got like that about frightening events. I instantly forgot about her behavior, though, as I zoomed in on Bud’s orange two-story condo, complete with the long tube that he loved to storm through, and fresh food for him to munch on. “Oh, wow, how did you do this? Did you break in or something?”

  “I went back to the alleyway and found your keys. I’m sorry I had to go through your stuff while you weren’t there,” she said. “I couldn’t find underwear. I would have bought you some new ones, but the stores aren’t open this time of night.”

  I grinned. She is so cute. She must have looked away when she unzipped my jeans, ’cause I hadn’t had undies in my house since the last time I brought someone home from Secrets two years ago.

  “Hey, you think I could take a shower?”

  “You should rest.”

  “I need to go to the bathroom,” I told her sharply. “And I want to get clean.”

  I wasn’t being the best patient in the world, and I could tell by the look in her eye that she didn’t appreciate being snapped at. What was I doing? In the few days that I’d known Riley, I had embarrassed her by kissing her in front of a doze
n women, nearly gotten her killed, and snapped at her. And I’d only remembered to say thank you after.

  She approached the bed, “Do you need help? I mean with the bandages?”

  “Yeah, I probably will.” I turned my back to her and carefully pulled my T-shirt over my head, holding it in front of me to cover my breasts. I waited expectantly for her to undo the bandages. After several seconds, I turned and looked at her over my left shoulder to find her glaring angrily at my back. “What?”

  “Should have gotten there sooner,” she growled. “They must’ve hit you a few times before I made it.”

  “I’m just glad you got there, period.” I replayed the attack in my mind. “Riley, why were you there?”

  She fumbled with the bandages, her knuckles grazing my back. I heard her go into her dresser drawer and remove what I assumed would be the scissors. It occurred to me briefly that I had turned my back on a woman I didn’t really know.

  “Stacy said that you normally don’t drink that much,” she said. “We were worried.”

  I waited patiently while she cut through the bandages.

  “I follow you most nights. I usually watch you until you get to your apartment,” she said.

  “You do?” I frowned at the wall, shocked by her admission. That she had followed me without my knowledge was like a dash of cold water. I’d been so wrapped up with my problems, I’d failed to keep my guard up and it had almost cost me dearly.

  She made a gesture with her finger for me to turn around again. I did, still clutching the T-shirt to my chest in some false sense of modesty.

  “Why?” I asked. “I’m a detective, remember? I can take care of myself.”

  She looked at me like I had her in the sights of a deer rifle. “I wasn’t going to. Stacy knew. She thought you might need help.”

  I smiled at her, wanting to ease her embarrassment. “Aw, shit. Look, Riley, I’m sorry about everything.”

  “You didn’t ask for this,” she said shortly.

  “I know, but I am sorry for putting you through so much trouble. And I wanted to say thank you for helping me and letting me sleep here and, you know, taking care of me,” I finished lamely.